


A Foot in the Door

by tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [14]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Facial Hair, First Dates, M/M, Magic, Pre-Slash, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Stephen wants Tony to build a magic missile… Tony wants to get a foot in the door for dating.





	A Foot in the Door

**Author's Note:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo Square fill K5: image, awesome facial hair bros

"You want me to build a magic missile, what?" Tony didn’t bother to look up at the holocall. He was, actually, grateful that Strange had made a call, even if he didn’t have one of the projection phones so all there was in the image was a static picture of Strange, selected from one of the many that Tony had taken. The fact that Strange was eating a hot dog and Tony had caught him mid bite had nothing to do with the picture chosen.

That was his story, and Tony was sticking to it.

"No, I want you to build a technical delivery system for magic." All hail the pedantic. Honestly, if Tony could get past the whole magic thing, Stephen Strange was pretty interesting. And he made a great straight man for Tony’s jokes, because Tony was almost positive the man did not understand humor at all.

"Magic Missile, that's what I said. It’s magic, and it’s in a missile casing, and you want me to build it,” Tony said. “I’m failing to see what’s wrong with my name.”

“There’s a failure to explode that I think would be a key component to missiles, but if you want to have your name on a dud rocket, I suppose that’s up to you,” Stephen said.

“My tech rarely fails completely,” Tony pointed out. “Sometimes it gets a bit big for its britches and tries to destroy the world, but it doesn’t… fail.”

“Exactly why I need you for the job,” Stephen said.

“Oh, that wasn’t condescending at all,” Tony remarked. “So, what can I do for you, and how exactly--”

Tony stopped talking, because Stephen took a few steps through a portal right in Tony’s workshop, touching down lightly on the floor, his overly dramatic and loyal piece of outerwear flaring.

Show off.

“--do you think you could, you know, knock or something, before you do that?”

“I called you,” Stephen said. “Was there something else I was required to do?”

“So, magic missile,” Tony prompted.

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Stephen said. “That’s not what I have in mind, at all.”

“So, what are we not blowing up, then?”

Stephen gestured, something mystical and weird, that would look a lot less cool if it wasn’t attached to some special effects. Honestly, if Tony could ignore the brilliant blue runes that snapped to attention and the circles of power that sprung up around Stephen’s wrists, it mostly just looked like Stephen was playing one of those kid games, like Mary Mack.

_Miss Mary Mack, all dressed in black…_

“This is Nico Minoru,” Stephen said, and he caused a wavering image to spring up, a teenage girl with a very emo vibe to her. Gothy witch chick. Black lipstick, crazy hair, dressed all in black and purple. Carrying a glowing rod. “She’s had some difficulty with her magic, recently, and as the Sorcerer Supreme, it’s kinda my job to make sure that people don’t… well, fuck up reality too much.”

“I can see that as being bad for business,” Tony remarked.

“Indeed,” Stephen said. “In a recent… encounter, Miss Minoru might have accidentally set up a chain reaction that will, given time, unwind our entire reality. Naturally, I thought you might want to help me stop it.”

“You’re surprisingly calm.”

“Gibbering in a panic doesn’t really get the problem solved,” Stephen said. “Besides, it’s contained, at the moment.”

“It’s the conditionals that worry me.”

“Right.” The image between Stephen’s fingers shifted. “This is the anomaly. A little rift of nothingness that, left unchecked, will consume the entire universe. This dimension.”

Looking at it was… hard. There was a glowing purple dome somewhere in--

“Is that Central Park?”

“Yes,” Stephen said. “I managed to pin the nothingness down, and I’m holding it inside a stasis shield. Immense amounts of mystical energy are flowing through me, into the shield. When I die, and I will die, eventually, my heart won’t be able to withstand it for too long, the shield will be entirely consumed, and then the nothingness will go on to consume the park, the island of Manhattan, the planet. Within a week, it will grow to consume the solar system. And, the bigger it gets, the faster it will consume. Consider it… a magical black hole, converting everything in our reality into… well, a negative mystical force.”

“Aside from the whole I don’t want anything to happen to the planet because I keep my stuff here,” Tony said, and he found that Stephen’s calm was infectious, and that was good, because Tony’s heart was pounding in his chest, “what else does this cosmic vacuum cleaner do?”

“I assume it’s powering some other dimension; something through the rift is drawing up the energy and using it. Right now, the tear is only the size of, perhaps the spread of my fingers.” Stephen’s hands were shaking, but his fingers looked pretty damn long, actually.

“So, the thingie on the other side could, theoretically, stop drawing power?”

“Maybe, but my experiences with interdimensional thingies says they usually don’t. And if it did, it might decide to come over here and have a look see,” Stephen continued. “Which, also, generally not good. It might be that dimension’s version of a fox, but--”

“We’re probably this dimension’s version of chickens, got it.” Tony scratched at his chin. “So, now that I have the doom and gloom part, what can me and my mere technical wonders do for you?”

“I have two shields in place right now,” Stephen said. “One is a mere physical block, to keep out the curious and the stupid. The other cannot be penetrated by magical means, but it is accessible to more conventional modes of transport.”

“A missile?”

“A missile.”

“And so, what are we putting in this missile?”

“That’s the fun part,” Stephen told him. “I’m going to load your missile with a particularly clever little spell that will close the tear from the other side. A magical spell cannot penetrate my second shield, and I can’t take it down without allowing our _thingie_ access from his side. It might use the opportunity to get a foot in the door.”

“ _Thingie_ is my technical term, you can’t borrow it,” Tony grouched.

“So, I load an inert magical spell into your missile,” Stephen continued, the side of his mouth twitching up, “and I lower the physical shield. You fire the missile right through the tear, my spell goes off when it hits the other side, seals the tear.”

“Awesome facial hair bros for the win,” Tony said, holding up a hand for Stephen to high five.

“Not even a little bit,” Stephen said. He did not give Tony a high five, which Tony thought was decidedly unfair.

“Oh, come on, you can do it,” Tony said. He didn’t put his hand down, just waited with a bright smile and gleeful anticipation. Stephen would give in. He’d be a grump about it, but he would do it, eventually.

“I hate you,” Stephen said, sighing. He slapped Tony’s hand.

“Yes!” Tony smirked. “All right, how much time do we have?”

“Less than you want, more than you need,” Stephen said.

“Sounds like my kind of deadline,” Tony said. “You can, like, run along for a bit, I’ll contact you when I’m ready for your payload.”

***

“So, what happens when this goes off?” Tony said. He adjusted the launch angle again, peering through the purple haze of shielding. There was, of course, a huge crowd of idiots gathered around the shield, gawking, because people were stupid.

“Hopefully nothing spectacular,” Stephen said. He wasn’t adjusting anything, although his Cloak was rippling dramatically. “Fire the missile, the tear closes, we kiss, we schmooze, we go home happy.”

Tony blinked. “Are you asking me on a date, Doctor Strange?”

“What? No,” Stephen said. “Absolutely not.”

“I dunno, it kinda sounded like you were… or at least, looking for some extra curricular activities.”

“Fire the missile successfully, and maybe -- _maybe_ \-- we can go out for a coffee.”

“Score!”

“Back away from the purple magic dome, people,” someone yelled. It sounded like Fury. Probably smart; other Avengers would probably get more attention and push toward the rift, not less. Fury, on the other hand, was scary as hell to most people.

“The crowd is dispersing,” Stephen reported. “I’ll give you a sixty second countdown, lower the shield, and you’ll have ten seconds to lock on and fire before I have to put it back up to contain any backlash.”

“You didn’t mention backlash,” Tony muttered. “But ten seconds is more than enough. Ready when you are, Doctor.”

Stephen started the countdown, a fancy fiery display of magical pyrotechnics that Tony thought were highly unnecessary. “You can’t just count down like a normal person?” He put on his HUD goggles to ready the missile.

The countdown ended. The shield dropped.

Tony fired.

The missile went right where it was supposed to go and vanished in three seconds.

In six seconds, something shot out, green and terrible, aimed straight for Tony.

Stephen crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. The Cloak swirled around them as Stephen’s magical shield snapped back into place.

“Well,” Tony said, looking up at Stephen, who was laying across him. “That was exciting. Ten seconds was seven seconds too many?”

“They were waiting for us,” Stephen said.

“Well, I’m glad you have a quick reaction time, Doctor, or I might be a little crispy.”

“I had to,” Stephen said, “we’re awesome facial hair bros, after all.”

“Well, it would have been worth it,” Tony mused. “Now… about that kiss?”

“I didn’t say anything about a kiss,” Stephen protested. “I said a date.”

“I distinctly heard kiss in there somewhere,” Tony pointed out.

“I hate you, so much,” Stephen sighed. He got to his feet and offered Tony a hand up.

“I’m told that’s normal, for dating me,” Tony said, grinning.

“One date is not _dating_.”

“You keep protesting,” Tony said, “but when you needed to make some magic, you came to me.”

“One date. We’ll see what happens from there.”

“All I need is a foot in the door.”


End file.
